There is Flattery in Friendship
Why do spies have such loud brains? I wondered; it’s always been a curiosity of mine. Every spy I’ve ever met (or not met as the case usually was) has had an extremely loud brain. Presumably, it has something to do with how good they were at playing roles and keeping their thoughts to themselves that they compensated by turning the volume on their internal monologues up six notches.
But when I smiled at the Widow, hoping to offset the conflicting dialogue in her head that ran the gambit from, ”Wait, what?” to various scenarios of how she’d “manage” this “situation”, to going through any information she had on both Luna and myself; she regained her traditionally neutral expression, and then turned on her heel and left the room. Which was my cue to not listen as much as I possibly could—I’m pretty sure accidently reading your newly discovered Soulmate’s mind without permission was one of those “bit not good” things I should avoid doing.
Clint seemed to be the first to recover from the whole “dragon” thing and he looked between Romanoff’s receding back and me several times before speaking up cautiously, “Wait. Did you . . . you and Nat?!”
“So it would appear.” I replied, still stroking Luna’s sleeping dragon form. I was half-tempted to wake her, because if this wasn’t a situation that required “girl talk”, then I didn’t know what was. But we’re insomniacs and I did just promise her she could sleep for as long as she wanted.
And I always keep my promises.
And now we’re being stared at again. Sort of. Collectively, it was as if the rest of them couldn’t figure out whether to stare at the Luna-dragon in my arms, or at me and the doorway where Natasha had been. Thor and Loki were both staring at Luna like Valhalla itself had just been opened before them—good, they damn well better be awed. Luna is fucking awesome!
I could hear the gears turning in Stark’s head, mild curiosity in the background while the rest of his brain ran a search to see if he knew what a Dreki was (and the whole, “how is that even possible?” science side. Dude, with all that’s happened recently, magic still surprises you?).
Rogers had forgone the “dragon” thing and was staring at the doorway going (to the effect of): Nat = friend; friend sad = why friend sad? (As Luna would say, “Good egg.”)
Pepper poured herself a fifth glass of wine, saluted me with it, and then went back to her tiramisu. If anything that goes on in this Tower surprises her anymore, I’ll eat my hat! (Not really, it was a cute hat!)
Bruce was looking still somewhat puzzled, though being one of the resident geniuses in the room, he’d figured out what Clint had, and was more focused on the fact that I had three Soulmates—and he seemed to be the only one to remember that Luna had said I was missing a few. (Clever boy.)
There was so much I could say, so much sass, so many jokes, so little time. I even had one all lined up when I heard something. And I always have to check to see if that something was a something I heard with my ears or with my mind. I turned, casually sauntered over to the window, and stared out at the bright lights of the greatest city in the world.
New York City, of course shit was going down. And the dragon was sleeping in my arms. Fuck me, my life, and every decision I’ve ever made which led to this moment. Because I always keep my promises.
And I made one to Luna, a long time ago. Technically, under duress, but I made it.
“On that note,” I said, turning back to the room at large, “I think I’ll take our leave.”
I headed towards the door and Thor stepped in my path, effectively blocking my exit just due to his sheer bulk. “But you cannot leave now!”
And that was so not on. “You would dare hinder my forward progress? You reach into the past for the actions of the callow boy-king pretender to command me? When none of your actions to date have made my thoughts turn towards a kinder shore?”
I was prepared to go off on him—I certainly haven’t forgotten the whole “blackmail their way into my home thing” (And being insulting in formalized language was so much fun!). But then Loki of all people, stepped in. Like literally, hand on Thor’s chest, pushed him aside, and stepped in front so he could talk to me.
“No discourtesy was meant. Thor merely wished to express his displeasure at being deprived of your company so soon. Unfortunately, diplomacy is not his strongest suit, but surely his sincerity is plain? We would extend our gratitude for your company this evening and would be delighted if you would grace us with your presence again in the future.”
“Ah, the silver-tongue strikes again!” I smiled and replied smoothly. From the looks on their faces, it was not a particularly nice smile. “I know that was meant for Luna and not me, but I appreciate the lie nonetheless. Gentlemen,” I nodded to Stark and Rogers, “Your Highnesses,” to Thor and Loki (they all fucking flinched, I felt so vindicated. No, I’m not petty in the slightest.) “Pepper,” got an actual smile because Pepper. “Soulmates.” They too got a real smile, which was returned. (Yes, I can do this Soulmate thing, I can, I can . . . well, I can once I actually have a conversation with Natasha Romanoff . . . and once I find the missing two (and there was something about that buzzing around in the back of my head, a sneaking suspicion of some sort that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Later, there’d be time later).
I left the room and got us down the elevator, said goodbye to Jarvis because it would have been rude not to, and into the car and home in less than six minutes. Anyone who knows anything about New York traffic, even at that time of night will understand my pride in that accomplishment.
I poured Luna into bed, suited up, and was out the door again in less than three minutes. I didn’t get back until dawn.
***
Approximately thirty-six hours after we left the Tower, I cracked open one eyelid at my ringing, antique alarm clock, took one look at the time, and without moving a finger, I threw it into the wall. The clock didn’t break (for those of you who care about how I treat my antiques) but the wall sort of, dented a little.
Luna pushed open my door as quietly as possible, and poked her head in. She looked at the wall, the clock on the floor, at me, and back again, then cautiously backed out, and shut the door without a sound, using just a hint of magic to ensure it.
Today was just one of those days. One of those wrong side of the bed days, days when every breath felt wrong, days when somebody even looking at you made you want to rip their heads off, days when while nothing might be actually wrong, nothing felt right. Days when telepaths just want to rip their brains out of their skulls using that tool that the Egyptians used to use to take the brains out of mummies, days when the world was just too fucking loud, even the barely registerable blip of Luna’s mind on my proverbial radar was too much. Cue the tension headache, migraine combination that medicine really couldn’t touch. All I wanted was to go back to fucking sleep.
But as just about every insomniac knows, once you’re awake, you’re awake. Even if you’ve been awake for the better part of four days straight. Sluggishly, I pulled myself out of bed, grabbed my robe from the chair where I’d thrown it the other day, and then dragged myself out to the kitchen. Luna, bless her heart, has known me way too long. She had three pots of tea floating above the kitchen island while she grabbed a couple of trivets, all while finishing up a call to our drywall connection. (Yes, we’re those “I have a guy (or gal) for that” people).
She finished up, said goodbye, and turned around just as I flopped myself down onto one of the stools, and dropped my head onto the counter. Luna set a big mug in front of me (well, technically it’s a beer stein, but held a whole pot of tea though, so give you one guess what we used that for), poured the pot of Irish Breakfast into said mug, the sugar in the raw stuff I like so much, and enough milk to change the color of the brew. Then she pushed the bakery box closer to my elbow after helping herself to one of the still warm croissants, and settled in with her own cup of tea.
***
One and a half pots of tea, fifty-eight minutes, and three croissants later, I was feeling close to halfway human again. Luna, being the sweetheart that she was, kept up a running dialogue of mixed thoughts, peculiarities, songs, and movie quotes in her head so I could set up camp there and dull the edges of the rest of the world for a little while.
And then Luna’s phone rang.
And maybe we’re becoming psychics too in our advanced age because unlisted number or not, we knew exactly who was on the other line.
We looked at each other, made faces, but Luna did answer the phone, on speaker because whatever it was, the likelihood of it not also involving me was pretty slim. And if these last few weeks were any indicator, we’d pretty much given up on the possibility of things going our way.
“Hello?”
Silence for a beat, and then a bellowed, “AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!!” came through the speaker.
I admit it; we flinched, just a little. Our penthouse has pretty good acoustics, and even though the speaker on her phone wasn’t great, we have particularly good hearing, and Iron Dude was loud. Then there was some brief scuffling and muffled, “Give me thats” followed by “Nos” and a couple “Make mes”, before Captain Star-Spangled-Pain-in-our-Ass got hold of the phone—though why they weren’t just patching us through their coms, I have no idea.
“Miss Draconis? Miss Suero? Stark shouldn’t have done that, he’s sorry. (“No, I’m not!” “Shut up, Tony!”) How long will it take you to meet us in Cairo?”
“Excuse you?” Luna said, doing an excellent job of keeping her voice level, trying not to exacerbate my headache any further. “Since when were we Avengers? I certainly don’t recall volunteering; and if I didn’t, then Rin certainly as hell didn’t!” As always, I was impressed at her ability to quiet shout. “And I’m almost afraid to ask, but why is it necessary for us to meet you in Cairo? I’d say this would be a great first date attempt, but considering the last couple stunts ya’ll pulled, I’m not optimistic.”
Silence for a long minute as Cap obviously wrestled with how to answer, and then smartly decided just to go with the part that didn’t require a personal opinion. “S.H.I.E.L.D. had a jail break during a custody transfer to Interpol. Three hundred odd members of—“
More scuffling sounds and then (somewhat muffled) came Stark’s voice down the line, “That terrorist group in China, you remember them? The one you made like freakin’ Santa Claus to Fury? They’re out—well, mostly—whatever. A whole lot of them escaped and regrouped with another branch organization that S.H.I.E.L.D. just found out about outside Cairo, in the 6th of October satellite city.” More metal against metal sounds, a few grunts, and quite a few “Heys!” and then he continued, a little breathlessly, “Figured since you got yourselves involved last time, you might want an actual invitation, cuz I’m pretty sure party crashing is rude.”
“Wait, did you just blame us for saving you?! That’s our fault?!” Luna shot back, just a hint of smoke escaping her mouth. (I think if that were in my skillset, I would be too.)
“No, no, no, that’s not what he meant at all.” Cap was back (and far in the background, we heard Loki say what we would later swear to was, “Liar.”) “What he meant was that since you helped capture them before, that your assistance would be useful. We’re less than half an hour out; Tony’ll tell you the coordinates.”
“Excuse you?!” My turn. “Not going to happen. Nope. Today started off as a bad day, my head is pounding worse than twelve simultaneous, differing performances of Taiko drums, and this conversation has just made it worse. I am not stepping foot outside for at least the next twenty-four hours. ”
“But—“
“Nope. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, Capsicle. The number you have reached is no longer in service. You heard the lady, we’re not fucking going—Soulmate or no Soulmate, Dreki or not, if Rin’s not going, then I don’t go. Can you even hear yourself?! We already gave S.H.I.E.L.D. that entire facility’s personnel—all four hundred and eight of them—giftwrapped even—but suddenly you lose them and now we gotta find them?! Since when?—I was pretty certain Rin gave them everything they needed to shut this whole mess down!” When you’re not in the mood to yell, it was nice to have a dragon in your corner. Especially when she’s taking the words pretty much verbatim from your brain. She’d just taken another deep breath to continue what I’m sure was a spectacularly witty and loquacious tirade, when suddenly a new voice (somewhat tinny due to the distance the voice was from the phone) broke in.
“That’s it! You never get to use the phone again! Nat, take the controls a second? Thanks.” Muffled sounds of movement, “Now give me that.”
“Miss Suero, Miss Draconis? Unless I’ve got permission to be familiar?”
“Biceps,” Luna exclaimed, dialing back her irritation at the sound of our (current) favorite Avenger. “We’re both here, and yes, of course you silly thing, you can use our first names.”
“Oh good. Rin, Luna, I’m sorry, on behalf of those two idiots over there.” (Simultaneous “Heys!” and muffled chuckling.) “What I’m sure he meant, or at the very least what I mean because I know how to give credit where its due, is thank you both for coming to our rescue when things went FUBAR. I’m honestly not certain how we would have escaped if not for your intervention.
“And now, I would like to politely request your assistance, on behalf of the Avengers Initiative, if possible, and apologize again, for calling so late as we’re only about fifteen minutes out from wheels down, but would you consider meeting us there?” I admit I was wavering, and Luna was already on her feet, and then he finished it off with the topper, “Please?”
My face contorted into several peculiar expressions as I thought things over. On the one hand, today bad day. On the other, Soulmate asking politely. Fuck me, I’m a sucker for politeness. I stood with a quiet sigh. Luna took that as all the incentive she needed, “Since you asked nicely, then we would be happy to.” Luna and I will be the first to admit, we’re a little petty, but damnit! We do kinda need to be asked! (And the sooner that Cap and Stark figured that out, the sooner they could get to the part in their relationship where they could give orders (to Luna) and have them obeyed (mostly, when she’s not being just a little bratty).
Yes, we were going. But none of this changed the fact that today was still just one of those days. And this conversation had done nothing to improve my mood. I smiled at Luna before turning on my heel to change. Luna’s corresponding expression was one of those nervous, wide-mouthed smiles that you only see when people are covering up a fear response.
That expression was still on her face a few minutes later when she zapped us out.
***
We arrived on the outskirts the 6th of October minutes before the Avengers landed; we could actually see the jet over the horizon (surprisingly quiet; I guess Stark’s gotta live up to his reputation somehow. (Don’t tell him, he’d see it as a compliment and then I’d never live it down.)) Plenty of time to hack their security and figure out what we were dealing with in this series of interconnected empty, if not incomplete, looking buildings. This cell was being rather clever, hiding their activities in one of the less occupied satellite cities, well outside the main Cairo area. The not so clever part(s)?
A). They were so not prepared for that jailbreak, in fact they were scrambling to find places for all their new members in their different assorted cells across the world, very businesslike. (Yes, I was keeping track of all the locations, though why I should be doing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s job, the C.I.A.’s job, MI-6’s job, etc. for them, I have no idea. (Probably because I’m an idiot.))
B). Somebody didn’t trust somebody to do their cybersecurity; I found seven different layers of encryption done by seven different cyber security specialists of differing ability. Not to mention that none of these layers were all encompassing—I could ride a full sized dragon through these damn holes and still have room to spare. (Luna picked up on that thought from my head and doubled over laughing. I’m glad somebody was amused. I was too busy grumbling over the sloppiness and the lack of challenge.)
Then the jet touched down on the sand, the hatch opened up, and Captain Tightpants (and I meant that literally, I wished I was in a better frame of mind to take advantage of that view) jumped out and totally tried to organize his troops, and us, once he saw we were already there, and I was just not having it. (I might have been more amenable to his tactical planning if today weren’t one of those days—I can feel you judging me out there!)
I stalked up to him, tablet at my side, and I pointed a finger in his face and went, “No.”
“No, what? I’m—“
“No. You,” and then I pulled my hand back to make a circling, collective gesture, “Perimeter.”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply (but his bitchface was epic!) and I caught a glimpse of the Black Widow’s smirk just behind Cap’s shoulder before I pointed at Luna as I turned and headed towards the main building, “Babysit.”
I shoved my tablet in her hands as I passed. Luna looked at it and then held it out in front of her between two fingers, making such a face! Then my actions caught up with her and she went, “Oh, hell no! Bitch, where do you think you’re—“
I turned my head again and gave her the full force of my ‘you’re in for it now’ face, with a liberal helping of the ‘psychopath smile’. Luna dead stopped, took a minute to collect herself (I occasionally scare her), and inhaled deeply to go off on me, when I said one succinct word. “Catcher.”
“Oh. OH!” Silence for a beat. “Gimli?”
No response from me, so she continued warily. “Gimli, remember, no killing. Remember we said—“
I flipped her off and kept walking. “Oh dear.”
The last thing I hear before I went inside was one of the Avengers saying, “You were kidding, right? She was kidding, wasn't she? That was a joke . . . wasn’t it?”